


Los Angeles, I'm Yours

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alien Culture, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Catching Up, Coulson being a foodie, Coulson hates Tony Stark, Coulson loves Skye, Coulson wants Skye back, Eating, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Flirting, Futurefic, Guilt, Los Angeles, Nostalgia, Oral Sex, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Skye is worried about her alienness, Skye loves Coulson, Skye takes a break from SHIELD, Skye's role in SHIELD, Superpowers, The Welcome Wagon, Unresolved Tension, catastrophic events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future fic. After everything goes down, Skye takes a break from SHIELD to figure things out.  Coulson comes after her.  </p><p>Title from the Decemberists song of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. gentle company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson and Skye meet up again

She stepped out of the diner with her backpack and cup in hand, making some room for the guy on his way in.

Smiling politely, she brushed past him and checked out the street quickly before deciding on the route she'd take back to her flat.

The delivery truck in front of her had packed up was just pulling away and she glanced across at the vacant space it left and saw him.

On the opposite side of the street, dressed in a suit, leaning against Lola.

What was he doing here out in the open like this?

Obviously, he was here for her, and she rolled her eyes at herself, standing on the sidewalk as Coulson removed his sunglasses and looked both ways before crossing.

"Thought I might catch you here," he said, glancing up at the diner.

It was the place where she'd first met Mike Peterson.

He stood there quietly letting her look him over.  He looked good.  Not that she'd been gone that long, but, still.  He looked more than okay, which was all she could ask for, really.

Tucking the sunglasses into his front pocket, he smiled at her. "Can I give you a ride somewhere?"

Skye peeked around him at Lola.

Lola looked good, too.  Like new.  Mack had obviously been busy.

"She looks good," Skye said, her eyes flickering back up to him. "So do you."

There's still that question in his eyes.  The same one as the day she left.

_What if_?

Discovering her past, her family, all of those secrets.  She needed time to sort through it.  To figure out where she belonged.

"I just wanted to see you," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Make sure you were okay."

"I'm good," she said, nodding at him.  He could’ve just called, but here he was. She ran a hand over his tie, smoothing it against his chest. "And you?"

"Still working out the kinks.  I imagine," he said, smirking at her, "I'll always be working those out some way or another."

"C'mon," he said, gesturing towards Lola. "I'll even let you drive."

Skye started laughing.  "Now you're really pulling out all the stops. Not exactly covert there, are you, sir?"

"Not exactly," he said, as they crossed the street together.

He took the backpack off her shoulder and reached into the driver's side to pop the trunk.

"Here you are," he said, dangling the keys in front of her.

Skye swiped them from his hand playfully and settled down in the driver's seat as he shut the door after her, then stowed away her bag and climbed into the other side.

Skye reached for the sunglasses in his pocket and slid them onto her face.  

"Where to?"

 

****

 

Skye pulled open the gate to the loft in downtown.  It wasn't the nicest part of town, but the room let her set up a small operation and it had good light.  A gutted factory with bits and pieces of its old life still present.

He stepped into the space and eyed it, looked at the view outside, as Skye stashed Lola's keys on the coffee table and dropped her laptop off on the kitchen counter.  Probably just doing a security swipe for his peace of mind she guessed.

She came around to where he was by the open window.  They could hear the sounds of the street below, the smell of some taco stand wafting up to them.

"So," she began, smiling at him.

Coulson looked back at her, expressive as ever in his silences.

Then he reached for her, embraced her, and it only took the smallest hint, her brushing her lips against his cheek, and they were kissing.  Picking up where they had left things last.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, tipping his forehead against hers.

“Were you planning on hanging around for awhile?” she asked, breaking away from him to go to her laptop.  “Or is this a work visit?”

Coulson took off his jacket and laid it out over the back of the couch and loosened his tie, started rolling up his shirtsleeves as he watched her attention turn to the screen.

“I’m needed back, but,” he said, going to her fridge and opening it. “Not for the next 24 hours.”

He looked at the sad state of her fridge and closed the door with a frown.

“Were you planning on taking me back with you?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him.

“Only if you’re ready.  If it’s what you want,” he said, leaning back against the counter.  His eyes went to the laptop. “What are you working on?”

“You didn’t think I’d just drop off the grid and wander the Earth looking for clues to my origins like a big fat cliché, did you?”

“I didn’t,” he said, smiling.   You’re a city girl. This is a nice place,” he said, scanning the room again, looking at the spare second hand furnishings like it could be abandoned at any moment. 

“When’s the last time someone came through here with a cleaning implement?”

“No, Coulson, I don’t own a vacuum,” she said sarcastically, kicking at the concrete floors, as she leaned her arms against the counter. “Are you offering to clean my loft, though?  Because, I’ll totally take you up on that.”

“How about I just buy you dinner instead?” he asked. “There’s a pretty amazing sushi spot in Little Tokyo.  We can catch up.”

“Dinner,” she said, looking away to think it over for a moment.  “Okay.”


	2. orphans and oligarchs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye's guilt and Coulson's heart.

Coulson had gone downstairs to forage and made his way back up to the loft with Mexican beer, a couple of limes and some grilled corn from a street vendor.

“I set this up,” she said, turning the laptop to him.  “To find others like me.”

He looked over the screen before staring back up at her and sighed.

“I’m beginning to wonder if bringing you into SHIELD wasn’t a total waste of your talents,” he said, going through the drawer to find the lone knife and chopping up the limes in agitation.

“Don’t make this about you,” she said, half-teasing.  “If I was placed in St. Agnes by SHIELD, there might be others like me out there.”

“What if they don’t want to be found?” he asked, drawing the obvious parallel.

“Well, I don’t have the option of rolling up in my fancy flying car,” she teased. “But, searching for answers your whole life?  It’s a strong selling point.  It was the ruins of an entire city, Coulson.  A culture.  A people.”

“This is your version of the Welcome Wagon,” he said, setting his beer down to lean over the screen with her. 

“A girl can only be kept waiting so long,” she answered, as he took her hand in his.  “Besides, if they don’t want to be found, maybe we can help protect them?  Set them up with new identities?”

The anti-alien sentiment was reaching new levels after what had occurred, the way HYDRA had exposed them.  That was part of the reason she’d left.

“HYDRA is going to be looking,” he agreed.  “Have you found any answers?” he asked, running his fingers over hers.

“Not exactly,” she replied, brushing her thumb against the palm of his hand.  “Have you?”

He stopped the motion of his hands.  “I haven’t had any other symptoms,” he said somberly. “It’s a part of me. At least, that’s what Simmons believes.  I wasn’t just terminally ill, like the others.  Like you.  I died.  I was dead for days and then I came back.”

“Almost sounds as crazy as some kind of alien chosen one bullshit,” Skye said, smirking back at him.

“You’re not responsible for what happened,” he said, running his thumb across her knuckles. “It was already there.  Inside of them.”

She stared back at him, her expression falling. “I’m sorry,” she said, turning away. “I can’t handle this.”

“Do you want me to go?” he asked. “I will.”

“Maybe…,” she started, as he headed toward the couch for his jacket.  “No. I’m sorry. Being alone hasn’t made it hurt any less.”

“For either of us,” he shot back.

“You’re not alone,” she said, frowning at him, surprised at the anger beneath his tone. “You have May and the team.”

“It’s not the same,” he said, turning back to her. “I’ve had to ask myself over and over again what I’m doing this for.”

“Coulson, c’mon,” she said, putting a hand on her hip. “We both know why you’re doing this.”

“Duty? Obligation? Guilt?  I’d prefer to do it for better reasons that don’t make me have doubts.”

“You’re the right guy, Coulson.  The only one that Fury trusted to rebuild it, because your heart is in the right place.”

“My heart?” he asked, walking towards her, pointing at his chest.  “My heart took off, and I had to track her down, hiding out in LA of all places, so, I brought the flashy red car, figuring then she’d at least hear me out!”

“You’re right, Lola was effective,” she said, laughing at him.

“Not that funny,” he said, exasperated.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “It’s not.  It’s sweet. Thank you.  But, this is hard.  I don’t know how to live with it.”

“Skye,” he said, sitting on the edge of the beat up couch.  “When I found out about my involvement in Project: TAHITI, I was devastated.  And what I did was a whole lot more intentional than what happened back in that temple.”

She walked towards him and put her hand out, resting it over his, listening.

“Remember what Hank Thompson said to me?”

“Yes,” she answered. The man had stood there in his office and told him how the project had changed his life and that he was grateful.

“I never could’ve hoped for that on my own, because, I’d already condemned myself.  What happened to us, because of us; what it did or didn’t do, who knows what it has done to their lives?  If it’s made them harder, or,” he said, touching her chin so that her eyes met his. “If one of them will save the world someday?” he said, smiling as a tear ran down her face.

“Give yourself a break,” he said, brushing away the tear with his thumb. “Come here.”

He pulled her into a hug against his chest and let her cry.

“ _It’s okay_.  It’s going to be okay.”


	3. An empty fellow found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson takes Skye to dinner for about 5 minutes.

"You like this neighborhood?" he asked, as they reached the ground floor and made their way out onto the street.

The last bit of sun had just left, they'd stayed upstairs and watched the sunset from her windows and finished their beers.

"I like the lived-in feel," she said, looking him over again.  He'd dressed down into jeans and a sweater.  "And they rented to me for cash, no questions asked."

"After being trapped on a secret base for six months, I can see the appeal," he said, as they passed a street vendor hawking knock off luxury goods.

"You seem to know your way around. Have you been to this place before?" she asked as they turned the corner and then crossed the street.

"Years ago," he said. "When Fury had me babysit Tony Stark."

Skye noted the immediate irritation in Coulson's voice at the recollection. "You missing it yet? The old SHIELD?"

"It was simpler," Coulson said. "But, for all the wrong reasons. Just following orders didn't do us any favors."

"You were trying to prepare for an alien invasion.  Seems to me Fury kind of nailed that one."

"Their interest, in Earth," he interjected. "It's a little suspicious, don't you think?"

"If you mean suspiciously creepy and making HYDRA look like a popsicle stand."

"You're my only expert on alien culture at the moment," he said, with a knowing smile.

"Is that a job offer?" she asked as he stopped in front of the small restaurant.

"It's definitely something I could use your help with," he said, opening the door for her.  "It's a much bigger puzzle, with a lot more pieces."

They walked up to the hostess and she motioned to the bar.  He asked for a table instead.

The restaurant was packed, filled with Japanese and they were sat in a corner near the very back.

"So what's good?" she asked when the waitress walked away.

"Everything," Coulson said, looking over the paper menu. "And they grate their wasabi."

"And that's important," she said, looking for the drink menu.

"The little things tell you a lot," he replied.

"Yup," she said, looking around. "The little things can kind of get lost when you're focused on the big picture."

A pained expression flickered across his face.

The waitress arrived and took their drink orders. Coulson handed her the piece of paper.

“You never really had a chance to grieve,” he said.  “It all happened so fast.  I wish I could have done more.”

 “For what?  A father and mother I never knew?  A home I’ve never known?  I’m not even really sure what that's supposed to look like.”

 They sat in silence for a moment as the waitress returned to pour sake into their cups.

“I wish I had a good answer for that, but I don't,” he said, lifting his cup. “I just put it away. I don't know where it goes. Cheers.”

They toasted and then drank.

“Buried, beneath a mountain of guilt,” she said, setting her cup on the table.  
  
“Or, if you make yourself small enough, no one will see it,” he said, matching her.  
  
“Touché.”  
  
“Well that settles it,” he said, watching the waitress reappear with a plate.  “We're perfect for each other,” he said, leaning forward.  
  
“ _Coulson_ ,” she said, putting her chopsticks down.  
  
His coy expression wasn’t going to make her give up that easily.

“I'm still trying to figure out what you're after,” she said. “Are you trying to get me to come back to work...”  
  
“Yes,” said, interrupting, as she raised her eyebrows at him.  
  
“Or," she continued on, "Trying to get me to go to bed with you?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” he said again, laughing, his face turning red. He pursed his lips, and glanced down, trying to hide his amusement at his own embarrassment.

He got busy with his chopsticks. “You object to that?” he asked, not looking up at her.

She glanced around the small restaurant and leaned forward across the table.

“How about, do you object that I'm _an alien_ ,” she said in a rushed whisper. He stared back with concern at her serious expression.

“It's just,” he began. “You've had that stuff in you for quite some time now,” he said, stuffing the nigiri into his mouth. “And you haven't sprouted a tail or anything.”  
  
“You jerk,” she said with a smile, sitting back against the booth. 

“C'mon let's hear the rest,” he waved towards her with his hand, grabbing another piece off the platter. 

“The rest,” she repeated, picking up her chopsticks again, grabbing a piece for herself.

“Let’s get this out of the way,” he continued. “You're not going to bring up the most obvious one? Our age difference?”  
  
“No,” she said, looking perturbed. “And anyway, I think that’s pretty much been put to bed.” 

She used her other hand to guide the piece of sushi into her mouth as he looked on.

As she ate, she watched him roll his fingertips across his thumb, arms resting on the edge of the table, considering her. 

“Should I ask for the check, then?” he said, a moment later. 

 

 


	4. Oh what a rush of ripe elan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before sex and after sex and during sex.

There's a certain energy in the air. Present. Hovering.

Knowing what they're about to do as they walk back from their abandoned dinner.

He's flirty and making small talk about how much the neighborhood has changed since he was here last.

Suddenly, things have slowed down, like he's eager to make it last as long as possible.

He stops in front of the neighborhood store, asks to grab a few things, and she takes his hand as they walk in to the ding of the automated doorbell.

Making plans for the morning already, he's asking if she likes eggs and how, and oh, maybe siracha? Has she ever had that with breakfast?

She slides her hand through his arm as he carries the shopping basket, happy to play the part. Maybe it's not a part? A wish, then.

They're looking at the massive tea aisle together and although she's been drinking coffee, she likes the idea of having tea, with the morning light in her windows and he'll still be there.

She didn't allow herself to think it before now, it made her too sad. The last time she'd seen that look in his eyes it felt impossible.

 _What if_.

What if what they had found together was real?

What if they had a chance?

Coulson ends their contemplation by finally grabbing some black tea off the shelf in front of them and dumping it in the basket.

When they're in the checkout line, he disappears for a moment, as she smiles at the middle-aged clerk and looks at the candies all in Japanese, then he's back again, tossing something into the basket sitting on the conveyor.

Skye peeks over to see the box of condoms lying on top of the bag of sushi rice.

A feeling punctures the mood: this is all acting. They've never done this before.

"Extra large?" she says out loud, with a raise of her eyebrow.

She's hoping to get more of a reaction than she does.

Instead, he gives her a tiny smile, and with a turn of his head looks away, pulling out his wallet.

  
***

  
They're hiding here, together.

Hiding from the universe.

Aliens and invasions and life and death. Their world became so much larger and she feels smaller and more powerless than ever.

What if they never find their answers? What if it's just this? Him inside of her, under her, gently calling her name as she moves with him on top of an old leather couch somewhere in Los Angeles.

He's been trying to take things slowly. They made it upstairs, he managed to put the shopping bags on the counter, and she had kissed him this time. Not to fill an absence, but with want, permission, exploring.

"Can we slow this down?" he had asked. "Make it last."

At least that's what he keeps saying, but his hands and his eyes and mouth are disagreeing. It ends up slowing then exploding again in frenetic bursts when one discovers some new thing about the other.

His hands keep landing on her thighs, finding different ways to touch. And she notices so he confesses he loves them and when she laughs and asks when he's ever seen them, he agrees he hasn't before now.

Just the red dress she wore when they dropped off Ace. And she's wearing barely anything, just her shirt straddling his naked lap, but she finds herself blushing and wondering at him holding on to that image for so long.

He smiles at the idea of sharing that little secret, smiles it right into the spot on her neck under her ear and laughs a little as she moans and pushes her hips down into his, wanting to give him her thighs.

He's cataloging everything about her, storing it up in case he's returning alone, and she's never been understood this way.

Despite all the awkwardness with "firsts", and she hasn't had many good firsts, this is good. She thinks about that, his goodness. How strong she feels when she's with him. The fears of dragging him down with her dwindle to nothing next to the feeling of coaxing her name out of him again and again.

The next time, they're in bed and it's late. She's not sure how late, it doesn't really matter.

Just that she opens her eyes and sees him staring back at her in the near dark, and his hand reaches out to run his fingers along the ends of her hair, hesitating for a tiny moment before slipping the sheet down and off her body.

He sits up and pulls her towards the end of the mattress, closer to the window, so that the light illuminates her as his hands map a path down her hair, along her neck, over her breasts and finally jerk her hips up towards him as he settles his mouth between her legs.

There was no way she would've sit still long enough for this before, she wanted all of him too much. Now, it feels quieter, but it's not. He's working on her, dedicating himself to her, watching her every movement and asking what she wants more of.

When he makes her come with his hand, watching her, his lips teasing against hers, she starts to take even breaths again, and then grabs his shoulders, kissing him bruisingly, telling him to fuck her.

Quite happily, he does, reaching for a condom as she bites at his neck, and his shoulder and his mouth and begins telling him a story about how one day she's going to go down on him while he's sitting behind his desk working.

The story ends with him out of breath and glistening with sweat and both of them laughing.

He makes her promise this will actually happen at least twice before he falls asleep.

  
***

He wakes up when the light hits his face, getting his bearings for a moment, peering across at the open window and looking to the empty spot in the bed next to him.

Craning his neck he sees Skye, wearing his sweater, one shoulder slipping out, sipping from a cup in front of her computer.

Sighing, he settles back down in the bed, smiling at the ceiling. Damn.

He's happy.

"You're awake," she said, her smile evident in the tone of her voice, and she got up off the stool, went to the cabinet and pulled out a mug. "Do you take milk in your tea?"

She has to ask, because he drinks his coffee black, but the English take their tea with milk and because it's him she might think he takes his tea a certain way.  So she asked, pouring water in the cup and popping it in the microwave.

"Sorry," she said, tossing a glance at him. "I don't have a kettle."

"That's fine," he said, propping himself up on one arm. "Yeah, sure, thanks."

"I thought about making breakfast," she said wryly, bringing the mug with her over to the bed. "But I looked, and I have no idea what you intend to make."

He took the hot cup from her, a tentative sip, and then drank. "Guess you do get up before me."

"Always did," she said, tilting her head onto her shoulder, looking at his freckles in the morning light. The flecks of color in his eyes.

They both know what's coming, but he decides to push it aside, putting down his mug and sitting up, to touch her face.

Her eyes are glancing at his scar in the daylight. Life and death. And rebirth.

Leaning forward to kiss her, morning breath and all, he tastes the same tea that he drank and deepens the kiss until he tastes her, pulling his sweater over her head and cupping her breasts in his hands as he softly kisses her neck.

"This isn't over," he says to her, sensing the emotion welling in her, pulling at him.

"I know," she says, hugging him against her. "It's just beginning."

They make love again, slowly, but there are words this time. Lots and lots of words.

She goes to shower after, and he makes them breakfast, watching the light coming in get harder, taking the morning away from them.


	5. I don't suppose you want to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little resolution.

The day she comes back is just like any other day.

SHIELD is after HYDRA and the base is bustling, perhaps feeling a bit more full than when she left.

Her work has made it necessary. She's taken on this huge project, and she needs SHIELD's resources to take it further. And she designed something that was meant to be a part of SHIELD. Just from the outside.

And he understands that this is about more than just giving her place.

The way she sees things. It gives him clarity. And purpose.

Coulson needs her.

He's said as much.

She walks through the hangar and nods at familiar faces, they stop and smile, happy to see her back.

They must have known she was coming, because they don't try to detain her, just let her continue on her way.

She's sad to part with Los Angeles and how it began to feel like a nest, a cocoon. And it had been good for both of them in many ways.

At first he'd been disappointed to find out she wasn't coming back. And not right away, but, for awhile. But requesting conjugal visits with the Director of SHIELD had some benefits. It let him unburden himself, keep his head in the game by having her big picture view from the outside looking in. It had established a give and take that worked for them, grew different parts of them...this...whatever it is.

And now it's time to take another step forward.

They've negotiated quite a few things to get to this point. Bringing in some of the Rising Tide members that were helping her. Some of the rescues she'd met without a home in need of a new identity, a new start.

But she's not done. She had time to think on her way over.

She knocks before she enters and he calls her in and there he is. Sitting behind his desk as though she'd never left.

"SHIELD should keep the loft."

His eyebrows go up as he stares back at her from behind his desk.

" _I'm_ happy to keep the loft," he says, getting up and walking around towards her. He sits on the edge of his desk and crosses his hands in front of him. 

"Welcome back, Agent Skye."

"Sir," she says with a smile, entering the office, keeping her eyes from roaming too far from his.

It's been awhile since she's seen him in the suit.

"SHIELD has beneffited greatly from the use of that loft," she continues.

"SHIELD doesn't know what that loft has been used for," he says slyly, his hand toying with the pens at the end of his desk.

"It's your job to keep secrets."

"Alright," he said, conceding. "Anything else?"

"My old quarters. They're too small," she says, gesturing with her hand. "Not to be demanding, it's just...I'm used to sharing them on occassion."

"How frequently do you plan on sharing them?" he asks, the corners of his eyes giving it away.

"We're both professionals, Coulson," she said, stepping towards him. "You tell me."

"My thought was you coming back was intended to be more of a permanent arrangement," he answered with a shrug. "Not something we were going to keep a secret, or a return to the status quo. You know, seeing as we're professionals and all."

She takes a breath and nods, steps closer, her fingers touching the lapel of his jacket. He stays fixed in his spot, as her eyes flicker up to his.

"Nice suit."

"I have a whole closet full," he says, cracking a smile. "Would you like to see them?"

  
***

This is actually the first time she's ever been in his quarters, which strikes her as kind of funny.

She travels light and he's carrying her bags for her as they get through the door.

It is bigger than the standard quarters. Not by much, but, _still_.

He goes towards the closet and she makes a face at him.

"I was kidding about the suits, Phil," she begins.

As he sets her bags down he slides open the closet and she can see that it's half empty.

"Oh," she says, suddenly at a loss for words. "I see."

They'd both been so busy organzing and working that they didn't get into these kinds of particulars. Maybe they were even avoiding having to define it and figured they'd just sort it out?

It was kind of gratifying to find out they'd been on the same page all along.

She wraps her arms around his neck. Kisses him.

"Does that mean yes?" he asks, running his hands along her sides.

"Uh huh," she murmurs, nodding and smiling against his mouth, kissing him again.

"Welcome home, Skye."


End file.
